This bloke began experiencing a burning sensation every time he had a pee, so he went to see his doctor. The doctor told him it was probably an STD. The man was outraged. “Oh don’t get in a dither,” the doctor said, “STDs don’t discriminate between princes and paupers. Fill this bottle.”
The man disappeared behind a screen, but after a minute or so, emerged. “I don’t need to go,” he said. “Never mind,” answered the doc, “take it home, do a squirt and bring it back tomorrow.”
Once home, the man finally did his specimen and replaced the cap. But as time passed, he started to fret about his doctor’s attitude. Then he noticed his cat heading for her litter tray. On an impulse, he followed the animal. As she squatted, he whipped the top off the specimen bottle and managed to catch a little of the animal’s urine.
Next, deciding to REALLY test the doctor, he went out to his garage, raised his car’s bonnet, withdrew the dipstick and dropped a few drips of its sump oil into the bottle. Then he replaced the cap and shook the bottle to mix its contents. The following day he returned to the surgery, handed it over and was told to return in a week for the test results.
The following week found him once more at his doctor’s, who said, “Well, the results have come in and I’m afraid you’ve got stage one Gonorrhoea. It’s not serious at this point. Pick up this prescription, finish the course, no sex or booze for three months, then come and see me for a final checkup.
The man looked glum and started to leave. Then the doctor turned and said, “Oh and by the way – your cat’s pregnant and your engine needs new rings.”
(My name’s Morpheus. I’m here all week).